


Chasing sunrise

by twilightemperor



Series: Us, the stars, & things I never told you [2]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Fear of Abandonment, Kissing, M/M, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightemperor/pseuds/twilightemperor
Summary: Jinseong gives him everything — his breath, the shivers down his spine, the neverending beats of his heart, the good parts and the bad parts of himself, all of it laid out like presents.
Relationships: Han "Peanut" Wang-ho/Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok, Park "Teddy" Jin-seong/Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok
Series: Us, the stars, & things I never told you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939072
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	Chasing sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. 
> 
> Please do not steal my work wholly or partly. Please do not copy parts of it, edit it slightly, and pass it off as your own. Please do not re-upload my work on other sites either. I’ve had enough of plagiarism issues. 
> 
> Here’s one of my favourite songs. I listened to it a lot while writing this: [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/6l0SEG60EHOxny0ZA4lxmO?si=J39dgcRGThmd4YM66GNSUA) or [YouTube](https://youtu.be/7t4qnH8tpd4)

Jinseong enters the house as quietly as he can, locking the door and toeing off his shoes quickly. It’s dark, the air still and silent, so he switches on the light on his phone and pads through the hallway, walking towards his room for some much needed rest. 

He jumps up in surprise when he spots a figure curled up on the floor, crossed arms and messy hair, all vulnerable and tiny. 

Jinseong approaches carefully, unable to recognise who it is in the dark. He shines the light at the figure, soon realising that it’s his captain who is sitting on the floor, his forehead resting on his own arms. He steps forward, squatting down next to Sanghyeok. “Hyung? What are you doing out here? You scared me.” 

“Nothing,” Sanghyeok replies. There’s something wrong. Jinseong doesn’t like the way Sanghyeok’s voice sounds scratchy and rough. 

“Come on, hyung. Go to bed. You’re usually asleep by now,” Jinseong pats the older male’s arm, wanting him to stand up, but Sanghyeok shakes his head stubbornly. 

“I don’t want to. I’ll stay out here. You go to bed.” 

Jinseong furrows his brows, confused. “I’ll stay out here with you till you feel like sleeping.” He makes himself comfortable on the floor, pulling off his coat. It’s cold today, the air unusually steely. He wraps his jacket around Sanghyeok’s thin figure, completely blanketing him. 

Sanghyeok still refuses to look up, and Jinseong doesn’t want to be rude, because some boundaries just shouldn’t be crossed. No matter how much time they’ve spent talking discreetly, discussing their dreams and worries and what lies ahead in the future, Sanghyeok is undoubtedly a private person, still soft-spoken and withdrawn at times. 

There's still the sting from having lost their chance of going to Worlds, one where Jinseong had been benched and had watched a rookie take his usual place next to Sangho. Silently, he mulls over the series of events while rubbing the small of Sanghyeok’s back soothingly, leaning against the wall and opting to spin his phone in his hand idly, not wanting to disrespect Sanghyeok by using his phone in his presence. 

He nearly gets another shock when Sanghyeok moves to lean against him, resting the side of his head against his right shoulder. Jinseong’s heart thumps loudly, pounding rapidly in his chest as the nice smell of shampoo enters his nose. 

“Don’t look at me now,” Sanghyeok commands with a weak whisper. Jinseong complies, as always, listening to his every word. Soft sniffles fill the air, worrying him more than ever. 

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Jinseong asks, unsure of what to do. He has seen Sanghyeok cry before, of course, out of frustration, and stress, and even anger and sadness, but this feels different. Uncertainly, he leaves his phone flashlight on and places it down. Then, he lifts his left hand, patting down on smooth hair tenderly, trying to offer some comfort. 

His heart feels like it somehow hurts, listening to Sanghyeok sob like this, feeling the wetness of the tears on his shirt. Continuing to stroke through fluffy hair, he bravely manoeuvres, shifting his long legs and slipping his right arm around Sanghyeok’s small waist, twisting to the side so he can face Sanghyeok and hug him fully. 

“It’s okay, hyung,” he murmurs, “I’m here.”

His heart wrenches, like somebody’s squeezing it tightly. Sanghyeok whines into his shirt like a wounded animal, hands gripping tightly onto his collar. 

“I had a dream again,” his captain finally admits, voice muffled. It’s not uncommon for Sanghyeok to complain about nightmares. 

He prods gently, dancing around the topic skittishly. “Was it bad?”

“In my dream, you told me you didn’t want to stay in the same team as me any longer. You said you regretted signing that contract to stay.” Each word stabs him, catching him off-guard. 

Jinseong takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “That’s not something I’d ever do,” he says, conviction in his veins. “I don’t regret anything, and I won’t leave you, hyung. I came to this team to play with you.” 

He hears the sound of Sanghyeok’s breath hitching. Despite the dimness with only Jinseong’s phone flashlight as lighting, Sanghyeok still looks deathly pretty when he peers up, hints of tear tracks on his face. “Someone told me that once,” he speaks slowly. “He told me that he came to my team to win. Then we lost at the finals. I couldn’t get him to stay.” 

Pausing for a moment, Jinseong thinks back to an old finals of the team, and realisation dawns on him. “I’m not like him,” Jinseong replies after much consternation, chewing on his bottom lip to stop himself from cursing at his own friend. He makes an educated guess, spitting out his name. “I’m not Wangho.” 

“Of course you're not,” Sanghyeok repeats, like he’s trying to console himself. As if snapping out of a reverie, he abruptly pulls away, facing away as he swipes at his cheeks quickly. “Right. You’re not Wangho,” he says, defeat in his voice. 

There’s something in the way Sanghyeok mumbles these words to himself that makes Jinseong’s heart absolutely ache, as if Sanghyeok spent the past three years chasing after the ghost of a jungler who won’t ever return, as if Jinseong is not a good enough replacement of a teammate. 

Gathering his confidence, Jinseong carefully places his left hand on the older male’s cheek, tilting his head back to face him. He breathes out, eyes trained on his captain. “Yeah, I’m not Wangho. I signed the contract. I’m staying with you.”

“But we're not going to worlds this year,” Sanghyeok speaks softly, delicately. His wrist is fragile against Jinseong’s chest, like even the lightest and slightest of movements could snap it; his eyes hazy with the willpower of wilting flowers and autumn leaves.

“I don’t care about that,” Jinseong dismisses. “I only care about you.”

“You don’t mean that,” his captain says, voice filled with disbelief. “He said the same thing to me.”

“I mean it.” 

“Then show me,” Sanghyeok whispers, like he’s casting a spell over Jinseong — except Jinseong isn’t an unwilling victim. 

He ditches his glasses and casts them to the side, cupping his captain’s face tenderly. Sanghyeok’s breaths are warm. Jinseong leans in, their lips meeting lightly, feeling Sanghyeok slacken against him. 

It hurts. It hurts so bad. Jinseong’s heart hurts so fucking bad as he kisses Sanghyeok, lips against soft lips. He wants the older male who is sitting in front of him, trembling and shaking as if he’s internally resisting Jinseong despite him being the one who had asked for a kiss. It’s as if there’s something Jinseong can’t ever wipe away, someone who goes by the name Han Wangho, who had entered Sanghyeok’s life and then left it in shambles, turning heel and running away.

Their lips move in tandem, Sanghyeok responding to his kiss feverishly, and Jinseong’s right hand finds its way to Sanghyeok’s hip, holding onto it. _Please be mine_ , Jinseong pleads silently. His eyes are starting to water up beneath his eyelids. He manages to control himself, but he feels the way Sanghyeok’s cheeks are wet with tears again. 

They lose themselves, seated on the floor, searching for warmth. Sanghyeok is ice cold and kisses like the drifting ocean, chipping off his soul bit by bit, like the waters against sand. Jinseong almost forgets to breathe, dizzy and aching. It’s addicting, the way he has his captain like this, even if Jinseong knows real well that he’s just a temporary stand-in for someone who’s miles away in a different country, probably fast asleep while the two of them are in Korea, sickeningly caught in this web.

Each time they separate, it only takes a few seconds till Sanghyeok drags him back, and Jinseong’s more than happy to give what he can. Jinseong gives him everything — his breath, the shivers down his spine, the neverending beats of his heart, the good parts and the bad parts of himself, all of it laid out like presents. He gives it all, because he wants Sanghyeok just as much as Sanghyeok wants someone else, and Jinseong can only indulge in the silly comfort of at least having his captain’s body in his arms, because his heart is clearly out of bounds.

There’s a voice in his head bugging him, telling him to stop before it’s too late, before he sinks down into nothingness and can’t find his soul again, but he consistently ignores it. _Take your pick_ , he thinks. _Take the parts of me that remind you of him; anything that will console you on freezing nights where you can’t sleep_.

Sanghyeok’s hands knot the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer, mewling in ecstasy, his eyes squeezed shut as he takes what he wants. Jinseong is the one hovering over him physically, but he’s completely at Sanghyeok’s mercy, puppet strings moving according to the older male’s wishes. In that moment, Jinseong almost wishes he wasn’t in love with his captain, because he has all of Sanghyeok in front of him, save for his crystal heart that’s far, far away, fast asleep in the presence of the neon street lights in China.

Finally stopping, he leans his forehead against Sanghyeok’s, their breaths mingling, the two of them coming down from the high. Sanghyeok’s hands wander down, stopping at Jinseong’s waist to cling onto it, his touch sending jolts of pleasure into his system. 

When they pull apart, he thumbs at Sanghyeok’s cheek, giving him a tiny smile. He wipes away pretty droplets of tears one by one, examining his captain’s face.

“I’m sorry, Jinseong,” Sanghyeok finally mumbles. They both know what his apology is for. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “It’s always okay, if it’s you.” 

“You won’t leave?” Sanghyeok asks, eyes lidded and innocently peering up, like he’s searching for reassurance, trapped in his own mind. His fingers are shaking, his body shivering.

Jinseong cups his face with his hands, shushing him kindly. “Of course I won’t.” 

“You’ll still stay? Even though we’re not going to Worlds? You’ll still stay and fight next to me?” Sanghyeok’s words come out all jumbled, his voice cracking midway, but Jinseong understands it all.

“I’ll stay,” he promises. He almost scoffs at himself, at how ridiculous he is, carving his heart out and handing it over on a silver platter. “For as long as you want me to.” 

“Even if I don’t...” Sanghyeok trails off, turning quiet. 

“No matter what,” Jinseong replies. He pretends like he isn’t drowning in agony at the possibility that Sanghyeok might never like him back, and maybe even in one year, two years, three, four and five, his feelings may still be left hanging by its red thread, never finding its way to the other end. 

Sanghyeok mumbles something that he can’t quite catch, so he tilts his head in confusion. “Repeat that, hyung?” 

“I don’t want to go back to bed,” Sanghyeok’s eyes are downcast, one hand grabbing onto the end of Jinseong’s shirt. Really, he’s like a child sometimes, his innocence shining through like light rays. Jinseong can’t help but let out a small smile, completely smitten. 

“We can sit here,” he says, grabbing his phone, its entire surface now hot because he had left its flashlight turned on for so long. Sanghyeok takes his outstretched hand instead and curls up next to him as they settle into a comfortable sitting position, their backs against the wall. Eventually, Sanghyeok rests his head on Jinseong’s right shoulder again, playing with his fingers distractedly. 

As he listens to the sound of Sanghyeok’s even breaths coming out in small puffs, and feels the tickling of Sanghyeok’s hair against his neck, their fingers intertwined and the weight against his body, Jinseong just knows this is all going to hurt real bad. 

“Next year,” he whispers. “I’ll bring you the trophy next year, and maybe you’ll love me.” 

He has always been good at consoling himself, at stitching himself back together after each defeat. This heartache is nothing, he’s sure. Sanghyeok is worth the pain. 

_Next year_ , he tells himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Click [this](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight) for my Twitter. I'm very selective of my followers, so I'll only accept your follow if you put a star emoji ⭐️ in your Twitter bio. You can remove it once I've accepted you! (And yes, this is a little “procedure” I made up during my days of writing [All Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630006/chapters/54083431) to make sure everyone following me on Twitter is from ao3).
> 
> 2\. Here’s some quick references I wanted to point out: 
> 
> “It’s not uncommon for Sanghyeok to complain about nightmares.” — [Episode 6, T1 The Locker Room](https://youtu.be/MGPw8jS4tkY)
> 
> ““He told me that he came to my team to win. Then we lost at the finals. I couldn’t get him to stay.”” — SKT 2017, and what they could have been. 
> 
> “...and maybe even in one year, two years, three, four and five, his feelings may still be left hanging by its red thread, never finding its way to the other end.” — This is with reference to the ‘red string of fate’, which is what people believe link two people together, just like the concept of soulmates. I changed it a bit here, to show that Jinseong thinks he may not be fated with Sanghyeok, and that’s why his feelings won’t find its way to the other end of the string he thinks exists, because him and Sanghyeok are tied to different people. 
> 
> “In that moment, Jinseong almost wishes he wasn’t in love with his captain, because he has all of Sanghyeok in front of him, save for his crystal heart that’s far, far away, fast asleep in the presence of the neon street lights in China.” — Peanut is in China with LGD, and Worlds this year is being held in China, so I saw it fit to make this specific reference. 
> 
> 3\. Sanghyeok isn't sure if he likes Jinseong, but he knows he doesn't want to lose Jinseong in a similar way he lost Wangho. In short, poor boy doesn't know who he likes and whether or not he's still hung up over Wangho.
> 
> 4\. Please cheer for LGD. They’re having a tough time at Worlds.
> 
> 5\. Yes, I deliberately made the word count “2020”.


End file.
